


Cold, cold, cold.

by SmokyCinnamonRoll



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-26 15:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19771468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokyCinnamonRoll/pseuds/SmokyCinnamonRoll
Summary: (I can't tag my ocs because guess what? they both don't have a fandom and don't even have the first bit of the comic posted. I gueeeess the stuff about Pavel is a spoiler but I like writing about him okay it just kind of happened.)The Doctor and friends have a chance encounter that might eventually lead to food. Jihae wants these strange people out of her house. (Apartment, really, but what does it matter?)Title comes from a song that's been stuck in my head recently, actually has nothing to do with the fic





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am very sorry about OOC-ness, I haven't watched much of 13's episodes recently.

He's falling.

It's that sort of a day, he supposes.

Ah, there goes his shoulder.

… He should probably specify that his shoulder has not detatched itself. He's perfectly intact, though, not really... not in pain. That's probably the worst part about his day; the fact that it's not a dream this time. That, and the fact that he can't really call to Jihae for help. He's mostly just sitting there crying quietly and rather pathetically, if he dares say so himself.

Actually, he thinks Jihae was away on a trip last he checked. Is that why he's here? Oh, it is. Fuck, this was a bad plan, and he's had some pretty bad plans before.  
(See: hanging, cutting and hoping that he'd die one day, shooting himself, pretty much every plan ever he'd had regarding suicide. At least Mikhail was smart enough to not have a loaded gun sitting in his house. Maybe he knew.)

Anyways, it's not likely Jihae will find him. He made sure this was thought through, and damnit, this really should have killed him. The sensation of falling through the air isn't one he's likely to forget anytime soon. The landing was less than optimal. He didn't really die, evidenced by the fact that he was laying on the ground pathetically. He also might be bleeding, but he also feels really weird, so it's hard to tell.

A weird as hell whooshing noise sounds right next to his face, but he can't care less about checking it out. Maybe if he keeps his eyes closed whatever it is will go away and leave him alone. He'd like that, being alone. Living on Jihae's couch, while he may have access to a tv on which to play games, isn't really optimal. Not that he has many things he took with him to america. Just the clothes on his back, and his backpack, containing an N64 and the few games he's thought to bring with.

The whooshing sound has stopped. That's nice, he's okay with that. Maybe by the time he gets up it'll be like it had never happened at all. Probably not, though. Things never seem to work out in his favor.

There's a creaking sound, almost as if a door is being opened.

“Doctor? There's... someone laying on the ground like... Right here...”

“What?”

“Someone on the ground, Doc. I think they're crying?”

“... And, um, bleeding. Definitely bleeding.”

“Hang on, I'm sorry, what?”

his eyes snap open, and he squints at the bright blue sky. Great, he's bleeding. He'll have to get the blood out again.

There's four people right fucking near him, and he still can't make himself get up. His day just keeps getting better.

“There's somebody in front of the tardis, bleeding? Pardon my french, but what the everloving fuck are they doing there, and not like, in a hospital or something? The ground's full of germs!”

“Sir? Sir, can you hear me?”

Yes, he can hear. No, he doesn't want to nod.

Somebody's touching him, holding him, dragging him upwards, and his shoulder may hurt like hell, but this isn't okay, he doesn't like it, can't--

He's not there. That was years ago, in Russia, where he's most definitely not. He's fine, hesfine hesfinehesfine it's fine. It's really, really fucking not. He can't think coherently, but he's not defenseless, he's not, and one of these songs has to do something, something, but he can't just recklessly hurt people, use his ability, because they might die, and the only person he wants to kill is himself, but they're still touching him and he just wants them to stop, he doesn't care that he's standing and not being help from behind, he can't see and he knows he's not blind, so he's either got his eyes shut or something really goddamn weird is happening, and why won't it just stop?

“Are you alright? Can you hear me? Sir?”

He's not, he can, and quit having your hands already why can't you just stop.

“Doctor, they're still bleeding, should we get them to a hospital?”

“I'd say that would be a good idea...”

the Doctor paused, presumably looking around at the cliff, the forest around.

“... If we can find one, that is. There's a lot of forest around here, not many houses that I can see... Yaz, Ryan? What about you, Graham? Any idea where we are?”

He's calmed down a bit. Tiny bit. He can see now, and there are, in fact, four people standing around him. The one that sounds the oldest is currently keeping him upright, and the other three are looking around. He carefully raises his hands a bit and inspects them, trying to stay focused on that one, simple task. (his hands are shaking, and the left one looks to have significantly more blood on it.)

Of course the oldest notices.

“Sir?” he asks quietly, as the other three discuss where they might be. “Are you alright now?” he pauses. Then adds, “well, relatively speaking, anyways.”

Pavel ducks out of the man's arms and stumbles a bit before finding his balance, and nodding. He probably looks like a scared animal while doing so, but at least nobody has their hands on him anymore. (it's not that he's afraid, honest.)

“You sure?”

Pavel sighs, raising his shaky hands to sign very familiar words for the millionth time. He'd rather not go to a hospital, he could be recognized, and not due to the fact that he used to have a band, either.

The words hardly leave a trace in the air, sparkles being the only giveaway to the fact that they're there. It's not until the mans eyes widen that he remembers that he shouldn't be doing this in front of people, because nobody else actually is supposed to know he has an ability,

His shoulder doesn't hurt so much anymore, at least. It'll heal later, and might even leave a scar depending on what actually happened to it, but he's used to that. Thank god he still has his scarf on, otherwise he'd probably be having some very awkward one-sided conversations right about now. Speaking of which, it sounds like the older man has brought his party trick to the attention of the rest of the group. Fuck, and he thought having hands on him was the most of his worries today. (besides failing to die for the millionth time.)

“Hello!” Says the one with the coolest coat in the universe, and about no fashion sense after that. He wasn't going to judge, everyone was constantly telling him how horrible his vest was. “I'm the Doctor, and these are my friends Ryan, Yaz, and Graham,” she says, pointing to each of them in order. “Do you still need medical assistance? We were just talking about how maybe a hospital would be a good idea, but you seem to be standing up now.”

He shrugs. Probably. Medical assistance would be better than his powers. Medical assistance would see all his scars. Medical assistance might put him in an asylum, and there was no way in hell he was letting that happen.

He left his whiteboard at Jihae's.

He left his phone with his bike. (That Jihae bought for him. He can't drive, but he's still probably leaving it with her when he finally goes back home. If he makes it back, of course. He could always die before then. He hopes Jihae hasn't come back from her trip and found his note yet, it's not really one of his best works. This was more of a rush job, so he didn't put as much thought into it. He might've misspelled a few things, gotten the grammar wrong. English isn't really his strong suit.

“Can you talk?” Asked Yaz. He shook his head. He could talk. In sign language. Which they wouldn't know.

“Oh,” said the Doctor. “That does explain a bit,”


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you live around here?”

No.

“Also, what were you doing on the ground?”

Hoping he might die that way instead.

“Nevermind, we don't have a way you can answer that.”

Yup, that's certainly the case.

Actually, his phone is probably still with his bike. Which he left...

...up there, right. How is he supposed to convey that? He supposes there's always the off chance that one of them might know sign language, but he still thinks that's not the case. But he won't know until he tries. But it's America, hardly anybody he's met knows russian, let alone sign language. But they might. But they probably won't.

Use that intuition of yours, Jihae Hwa. Where could I possibly be?

“My bike is back up there a ways, it's a bit of a hike, but my phone should be there, at least.”

The Doctor squints at him. “What?”

He sighs. This really wasn't worth trying, and he's heard british sign language is different from american anyways, so it's not like he can just fingerspell everything.

Being mute absolutely fucking sucks.

He points up behind him again. “Bike. Also my phone. I'm walking up there, anyways.”

Well, I'll give you a hint. I keep dreaming that I'm falling, and I've never done that before.

When he starts walking, The four people follow. And pester him with questions. It's understandable, but he still kind of wishes they'd just leave him alone. And go back to that weird box thing that he was fairly certain hadn't been there when he was looking off the edge of the cliff-face thing.

His bike is right where he left it, off to the side of the actual path, but just hidden enough that you'd have to really be looking ot be able to find it.

Try and hurry if you're insistent on having a funeral, I'd rather look good for that. Have you ever gone hiking, Jihae?

He gets his phone and pokes around a bit to find the app he's looking for.

“Hi.”

“Hello!” The Doctor says cjeerfully. “If this is your bike, why were you down there? You still look kind of... covered in blood, and I was also told you were crying. ...Are you alright now?”

“For the most part, just have to go home.”

He hates calling it home. Jihae's apartment isn't his home.

“The blood'll be fine, I can get it out.”

“Oh,” The Doctor nods as if this is a perfectly normal thing to say. “Well, alright. Haven't seen any aliens around have you?”

“Not that I know of”

“Doctor, you can't just... ask people if they've seen aliens! We literally just got here, and I really don't think we'd run into any, anyways.”

He walks over to the spot he had been before and peeks over the edge. Yup, the box definitely hadn't been there before. He thinks it looks kind of small to have four people inside it. Maybe he should check to see if Jihae's home yet. She still doesn't know about anything, and he'd rather not have her realize what's up with him now, when he hasn't actually died yet.

“So, uh... Live around here?”

“Close. City can't be seen from here.”

“Oh. Pretty nice view, though, don't you think? Come here often?”

The old man – Graham, Pavel thinks his name was, seems insistent on making conversation. Pavel is insistent on ignoring most of his questions, because that man has no sense of personal space. Okay, that's a bit mean. He clearly does, and was just concerned earlier, but still. He didn't like people touching him.

“Well, he's the only person we've seen so far,and he's not an alien, so... should we head sometime else, Doctor?”

Sometime. Huh. Strange way to put it.

“Aw, but I'm hungry! And this is the perfect place for a picnic, don't you agree?”

Pavel stopped walking for a moment and took out his phone again.

“Actually, my friend should be home soon, she's a good cook.”

He didn't actually want these people in the house, but Jihae would love to meet new people, and these people were certainly going to be interesting to her.

“Oh, what's your friend's name? Does she know you're out?” Asked Yasmin. Pavel frowned.

“She will soon, anyways. Her name's Jihae, I'd rather get back before she knows I've left.”

“Huh. Why?”

Pavel shoved his phone back into his backpack maybe a bit more forcefully than needed, and continued walking. Saying why would be a disaster and they'd probably also tell Jihae, and... yeah. He needed to get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat less typos to fix than the last chapter. I think i was more awake for this one :P  
> ...italics would actually have been useful in this chapter.
> 
> they live in a city, so how long long would Pavel to get there? I don't know. neither do you. It Is A Mystery.


	3. Chapter 3

Unlocking the door with four entire people standing behind him is a rather harrowing affair. He's certain he's nearly dropped the key about four times now. 

On the bright side, Jihae's not home (egh) yet. As long as he gets the note on the coffee table out of view as soon as possible, everything should go fine. 

Opening the door, he steps aside and lets the Doctor and her friends in. He hopes they aren't the nosy sort, he might have some explaining to do if that ends up being the case. While absentmindedly wondering about whether Jihae will let him borrow some of her clothes for a little bit, he follows the small group in, and picks the note up right as the Docter asks, “What's that?”

“Just a note for if Jihae got home before I did,” Pavel replies. For once, he's happy that tone is still pretty difficult to convey over the text-to-speech app he's using, He hasn't spoken in forever, but he's sure that if he did now, it would be hard to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“Anyways, you can sit down and make yourselves at home in the meantime, I'll just go take care of a few things first.”

He walks through the dining room to the kitchen to give himself some time to think before heading upstairs. And also to be able to stop pretending that he wasn't still very much in pain. Did he really just let four people who may or may not murder him into the apartment? He didn't make sure they took off their shoes, Jihae's going to kill him when she gets back.

On that note, he's glad none of them commented on his current lack of shoes yet. He'll have to go back and get them later, of course, but at least they didn't notice.

He sets his phone down on the counter, and shuffles slowly upstairs. This is still his only vest, and he's not actually in any hurry to have to clean it. Also his shoulder still hurts and may actually be bleeding again, that's a thing too. Like, really fucking hurts. He's currently leaning against the wall and hoping he'll be back to functional soon. 

… Yeah, he's probably going to have to get this looked at this time. Aside from not dying, there's not much that power of his does to actually heal wounds. He hasn't cared in the past because he's been able to deal with it, but this time... this time he's not even sure what happened. Well, okay, he knows what happened. He fell off a cliff thing. And it hurt a bunch, but also didn't kill him, which was kind of counterintuitive to what his plan had been.

Well, okay, that specific song did do more than get him away from death's door, but it didn't seem to have done much in this specific case. Maybe he'd used it enough times that the universe had decided it shou;dn't work the way it used to. The game devs of the universe nerfed his (understandably) overpowered ability.

Hopefully that didn't extend to the rest of them. Wonderful offensive capabilities most of the time, so he didn't need to use them, but, still. He'd had this ability for years, he really wouldn't like it if it suddenly changed on him now, when he kept trying (and failing) to die.

Because Jihae keeps making headlines what with all the fights that seem to constantly happen around them, and also with all the mysteries she keeps solving. Most of said fights were with ability users, and Pavel usually ends up having them think that Jihae's the one with the ability instead of him. (She still doesn't know that he has one.)

He pushes away from the wall and walks into his room. Jihae's room, really, but he at least occupies the space that consists of the couch, and the entertainment center. There's also a coffee table in between those two things, which is where he decides to put the note for the moment. Jihae's not likely to notice it there. Not at first, anyways.

Peeling off his vest and shirt he discovers two things; the first of which being that there's a lot more blood then he was expecting to see, and the second being that there was at least one clearly visible gash on his arm, which was, quite frankly, worrying and confusing; mainly because his shoulder was the only thing that he could tell hurt. Maybe his ability was being super weird, or maybe he was just forcefully ignoring any other wounds he might have.

He also puts those on the coffee table for the moment, trying to think up a reasonable story for why he got hurt. A fight? No, it couldn't be, she wouldn't believe that after a certain unfortunate night he didn't really want to acknowledge anymore. Questions, though mostly ignored, had been answered, and she'd made him promise to never do that again. (It didn't stop him though.)

Well, he'll think of something later. For now, though, he figures that Jihae will be home soon enough, so he'll have time to get a shower while she talks to their guests and cooks food. 

He'll apologize about the blood later.

(***)

Jihae came home to an unlocked door. It wasn't that odd in and of itself, but Pavel had sent her a cryptic text that had just said “may be out before you're back. Sorru about note.” The mention of a note was what set her alarm bells off, and therefore she'd tried to get back as soon as possible.

Apprehensively, she opened the door and stepped in, noting that Pavel's shoes weren't there, and also that she could hear people conversing in the next room. She took her shoes off as quietly as possible, trying to listen to what was being said.

“Well, personally, I hate pears. Pears are evil,” Said a feminine voice, which was met with various noises of confusion.

“Doctor, that had absolutely nothing to do with our conversation, what-”

“I'm hungry. And our new friend's friend still hasn't showed up to make lunch. I hope she doesn't make anything with pears, that's all.”

“I'm seconding the first part, I'm hungry too!”

...What the hell are british people doing in her apartment. She looked at the front door again, and frowned. They hadn't taken their shoes off, and... wait. Was that blood? But none of the people had sounded as if they were particularly in pain. None of the ones talking, anyways.

Jihae walks through the hall with her eyes practically glued to the floor, just to confirm her suspicions. She was right, someone had definitely bled on her nice, clean floor. Now she'd have to clean it all up. As she turns the corner, she sees three people sitting on her couch and one looking over her bookshelf. One of them raises his hand and waves awkwardly.

“Hi,” he says. “Who are you?”

“Better question, what are you doing in my house with your shoes on?” she shoots back, crossing her arms.

“Um.” He looks down at his own shoes, which are currently parked on his feet. “Waiting for food. Kind of, I, I mean...”

He looks back up. “Hi, I'm Ryan.”

“Jihae, nice to meet you.”

The woman by the bookshelf looks up, a smile on her face. 

“Hello! I'm the Doctor, and these are my friends. You're Pavel's friend, right?”

“In theory. Doctor who?”

“Just the Doctor, thanks.”

“Oh. Well, who else did he bring this time?”

“Just us,” says the young woman on the couch. "This time?"

“Yeah, he said you might make food.”

“Oh. Did he? Huh. Well, I suppose lunch was in order.” She walks to the dining room door, then stops and turns back to the couch. “Sorry, didn't catch your names, who did you say you were?”

“They didn't,” says the Doctor, just as the two as-yet unidentified people on the couch say “Yasmin,” and “Graham,” respectively. Jihae nods.

“Alright, well, give me a minute to talk to Pavel, and in the meantime, you can see if there's anything you'd like in the fridge.”  
The four look at each other.

“Or just give me a recipe or something once I come back downstairs? Listen, I don't know what you guys like.”

“Nothing with pears,” says the Docter as Jihae leaves the room, still looking for blood on the floor. What she could see of her couch looked fine, so the only answer was that something happened to Pavel.

“Damnit, I told him to not get into any more fights,” she sighs.

(***)

“Well, that was...”

“Interesting?” the Doctor suggests. “She seemed distracted.”

“...Sure, we'll go with that. So, um... What now? Should we just... sit here and wait?”

“Well, I for one am going to take a look at that fridge. And then maybe move the tardis closer, if we're staying here for much longer.”

“Well, you're kind of the one in charge of that...” says Yasmin. “I won't argue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what's going on and there's some very dodgy logic going on here that shouldn't be.  
> Don't step away from your story for more than a couple days, kids.  
> Pavel's ability works in a really specific way, and technically what I wrote shouldn't be in here, but we'll just say it's because of how it works and leave it at that, because I'd need to put different content in places, and fuck that noise.  
> I don't know how to write people talking to each other and honestly should probably watch season eleven again.

**Author's Note:**

> Switching tenses was not intended, I'm fairly certain I wrote all of this chapter while very tired. Also there should be italics places, but i never added them to the original text because I didn't feel like it, so you'll probably never know where they would've went.  
> Pavel is an existing character of mine who supposedly has a comic, same goes for Jihae. The maing peoblem right now is that I haven't actually drown everything for the first chapter because each part takes me forever, but I'm hoping to have it up at some point.  
> In theory, anyways.


End file.
